Used to It
by JoeyBear1424
Summary: When Bilbo joined the company of dwarves; he hoped, maybe he couldn't be so alone. But he felt more alone than ever.
1. Outsider

Bilbo was used to being an outsider; a loner. He'd done for a while now, sitting quietly with his tea and books. And why not? Why wouldn't he? His books never called him a halfling or reminded him how useless he was. The books never stared at him with disdain when he complained or fussed. The books simply sat silent as he turned their pages, drinking in the adventures and stories they held. And there was times when Bilbo had finished a book, his mind still whirling from the tragic ending or the bravery shown—sometimes he was almost able to convince himself being alone wasn't so bad. But the thing about being alone so often, nobody ever checked to see if he was okay. After all; he was used to it. He was a loner. This was what he _wanted_, they thought. There were times of course, when Hamfast asked gently if Bilbo was okay. He stared at him with worry so clear on his face; his eyebrows furrowed. But each time, Bilbo nodded and promised him, yes, of course. After all, Hamfast had a family to worry about; a family to focus on and throw his time and energy into. He didn't need Bilbo, a bachelor, a lonely hobbit to take up his time. So instead, Bilbo always promised he was okay; just fine, thank you. Even though, he wanted nothing more than a sliver of their time. If that meant just sitting and smoking a pipe together; gossiping. He would even be okay with sitting in silence.

* * *

When Bilbo joined the company of dwarves; he hoped, maybe he couldn't be so alone. But he felt more alone than ever. They took every chance it seemed to remind him that he was an outsider that would not have come along if not for Gandalf. Most of the days were spent with the dwarves all making jabs at him and he was often the butt of their jokes. On the days they ignored him, he found himself seething with envy and a deep sense of want. They all had a family of some sort with them; a brother, a cousin or the prince's cases their uncle. And Bilbo—Bilbo was nobody, he had nobody with him. Gandalf tried his best to make him feel a part of the company, tried his best to help him transition. But the sympathetic looks from beneath his wide brimmed hat just made him all the more lonely, all the more an outcast. Even Gandalf had a part in his company and he was useful. Bilbo knew he was useless to them. If he died on the road, he doubted any one of them would cry, mourn his loss except for Gandalf. Thorin would probably sneer, scoff and shake his head. Dwalin would repeat his words from before: 'the wild is no place for gentle folk that can neither fight nor fend for themselves'. As much as their words sting though, he's determined to prove he can do it. He belongs. He'll be what they want. But with each passing day; he recedes more and more into a shell. Each passing day, he wishes more and more often for his books. He wishes for his tea. He wishes for Hamfast's worried face as he asks if he's okay. But Bilbo is a Baggins and Baggins always keep their promises. Even if that means being the object everyone directs their cruel jokes at.

"Say, Bilbo," Kili says that night as they sit down to eat. "Why do you live alone?" Bilbo's grip on his spoon stiffens as the prince asks; his dark eyes mirthful.

"Perhaps he's too stiff and uptight for them," Fili interjects, nudging Bilbo's side. "Tell me when they come over; do you order them to turn around and get a handkerchief of their own?" Bofur laughs, the flaps of his hat bobbing up and down.

"Why do that when you can just tear a piece off your clothing?" Bofur asks; giving Bilbo a dimpled smile. Bilbo's grip on his spoon leaves his knuckles white; his eyes stinging at their words as the others around him all laugh and throw in comments of their own.

"He's too uptight for that." It's Ori, the young scribe who throws in the comment; making the company roar with laughter. And it's the comment that makes Bilbo come unglued. He sets his bowl down carefully, his hands shaking as he clenches and unclenches his fists; making his way into the dark forest. Fury floods his body; envy washes over him in waves. Tears stream down his cheeks as he stalks angrily through the forest. He had liked Ori, the young scribe shy and rather awkward at times. He was quiet but had talked to Bilbo a couple times; simple good mornings or how are you Mister Bilbo? But he's just the others. He was just being kind so he could wait for his chance. Bilbo sits down with a small sob, burying his face into his knees. A small part of him feels childish for pitying himself and going out into the forest to cry. Another part of him feels betrayed at Ori's words; envy because the younger dwarf has two older brothers and he's just gone out of his way to remind Bilbo how alone he is. But more than anything, Bilbo feels lost, desperate for comfort as he fiddles with the buttons of his waist coat. And like he's a fauntling again; Bilbo reaches up and runs a hand through his coppery curls, ignoring the greasy, grimy feeling of them. He pretends his hand is not his own but his mother's as his free hand fiddles with the brass buttons of his waist coat. And even though it just makes more tears stream down his cheeks; his heart ache more, Bilbo keeps doing it. And he swears if he tries hard enough, he'll hear her voice again and actually feel her hand running through her hair.

When someone comes for him, it's not Belladonna Took's hand that runs their hand through his filthy curls but Gandalf's. And the wizard's eyes look far too tired; far too old as he sighs, his blue eyes void of mirth.

"Come Bilbo, my dear boy." Gandalf says gently; urging him to stand up. When Bilbo doesn't move, Gandalf sighs, sitting down next to him slowly.

"I don't belong out here, Gandalf," Bilbo whispers, his voice raw from crying. "I'm not a Took, I'm a Baggins." And when his voice cracks; Gandalf doesn't even attempt to speak, simply draws him into his arms as Bilbo's body is racked with sobs. Gandalf runs one hand through Bilbo's curls, the other rubbing small circles on his back as he wonders what ever happened to Belladonna Took's son.

* * *

So I love Ori. He's an aboslute cutie and there's simply not enough stories out there for him. Also I had my first day of college today...I'm kinda overwhelmed but enjoyed it. I own nothing


	2. About Hobbits

Thank you so much to redroses100; Wraven; SilverLover92; GiantJack; SakuraDragomir; SineNominae; fairyprincess91; demonsinger; Theea; Percabeth Jackson; Soniccouples10; Dragon of Selene; Spannie 2; Clyll the Deathless; SherlockDW2013; IceBlack for the follows and favorites! I'm not extremely happy with this chapter but this was as good as I could get it.

redroses100: I can't tell you how much I loved your review! Thank you so much and here's more for you.

Guest: Thank you and if you're still following this story; I hope you enjoy it

Soniccouples10: The dwarves all kind of doubt Bilbo and don't feel he belongs so I wanted to try and show that. Don't worry they get better.

* * *

Bilbo doesn't miss the way Gandalf frowns at him the next morning; his light blue eyes unusually dark. Bilbo pretends not to see the worried look on his face though as he packs up his bedroll; his shoulders sagging. He knew that his eyes were red rimmed and puffy from a night of crying, his trousers grass stained. If any of the dwarves notice, they don't say anything to him. They all move about camp, getting breakfast or packing their things up. Bilbo's stomach twists into knots at the thought of breakfast, of any food. He sits down by his pack, staring dejectedly at the company. He doesn't notice when Bofur comes up to him, holding out a bowl of soup. The hatted dwarf has to nudge him with his booted foot a couple times before the hobbit stirs; staring blankly at him.

"What is it?" Bilbo asks; his voice shaky. Bofur holds the bowl closer to him; his eyebrows furrowed.

"Breakfast," Bofur says, glancing over his shoulder at the others. "We're going to get moving soon—better eat." Bilbo takes the bowl, barely nodding. He waits until Bofur's turned back towards the others before he pours the soup out.

"Are you not hungry this morning my dear boy?" Bilbo's cheeks flush red as he turns around to face Gandalf; his eyebrows furrowed.

"Not particularly Gandalf," Bilbo confesses, looking away from the wizard. "Not this morning…" Gandalf sighs, kneeling down to meet Bilbo's eye.

"Starving yourself will not fix things Bilbo," Gandalf whispers. "You need not to punish yourself for the behavior of your companions." Bilbo snorts at the word, shaking his head.

"My companions are they Gandalf?" Bilbo demands; standing up. "That's an interesting thing to call them." He moves away from Gandalf, his shoulders stiff. Gandalf sighs, staring at the hobbit's back.

"Oh, Belladonna," Gandalf whispers; shaking his head. "Forgive me and save me from the stubbornness of dwarves."

* * *

Bilbo resolves to stay silent as they ride their ponies; his shoulders stiff as he clutches the reins. Myrtle seems to sense what a foul mood he's in, walking slower than the other ponies and trailing behind the group. As the others all talk, swapping stories and telling jokes, Bilbo thinks of Bag End. He misses the quiet of his home where the only sounds are the whispers of pages turning as he reads; his bustling about and the rare, short conversations with Hamfast. A week before Gandalf had arrived; Bilbo remembered the day all too well.

_Bilbo sat in his study reading. Hamfast's quiet humming came in through the open window._

_ "Mr. Bilbo," Hamfast stood up, resting his arms on the windowsill. Bilbo glanced up from his book, his heart thumping at the prospect of a real conversation. "I have some new flowers planted if you'd like to come out and see them." His voice was hopeful as he watched Bilbo, a small, nervous smile on his face. Bilbo nodded, standing up and leaning out the window. Hamfast stood there, a proud look on his face as Bilbo admired the flowers. Dirt smudged his cheeks and hands. But he didn't seem to notice or care as he watched Bilbo. _

_ "Roses," Bilbo gasped, staring in wonder at the delicate scarlet petals of the flower. "They're wonderful." He looked up to meet Hamfast's eye. The gardener flushed red, ducking his head shyly. _

_ "Thank you Mister Bilbo," Hamfast's smile had nearly split his face apart. "I thought the garden could use a little bit more color." _

_ "My mother loved roses," Bilbo whispered as he swallowed hard, fighting tears. "Thank you, Hamfast." The gardener lifted his head, his eyes soft as he watched Bilbo. _

_ "Are you okay, Mister Bilbo?" Hamfast asked; his eyes full of concern. Bilbo straightened up, nodding. _

_ "Of course," Bilbo promised. "The roses are perfect." _

Bilbo sighs, loosening his grip on the reins. Hamfast was probably there now at Bag End; tending the garden. Bilbo knew he would take special care to watch over the roses; taking longer to care for them than the others. And perhaps, Bilbo thought longingly he would gaze towards the window of Bilbo's study. Maybe he would even miss him. But that was only an idiot's hope.

"I miss you, Hamfast." Bilbo whispers, his shoulders sagging.

"Who's that?" Bilbo nearly jumps out of the saddle at the new voice. He looks to his left, catching sight of Bofur staring at him curiously. When Bilbo doesn't answer right away, flushing bright red the hatted dwarf grins. "Oh, courting someone perhaps?" Bofur winks, laughing merrily as Bilbo splutters.

"Hamfast is my gardener," Bilbo says; looking away from the hatted dwarf. "I thought it was made clear last night, I'm too stiff to court someone." Bilbo spits, his tone steely. He doesn't notice the way Bofur's face drops as he bites his lower lip.

"Ah, we're all just joking," Bofur says lightly, offering Bilbo a dimpled smile. When the hobbit doesn't return his smile, Bofur bites his lip. "Say Bilbo, why don't you tell me about hobbits? Ori wanted to know too." Bilbo stiffens at the mention of the scribe who turns to stare at them, an eager, easy smile on his face. Ori slows his pony down, waiting for other two to catch up. Bilbo's stomach clenches as Ori scrambles for his journal and quill, nearly falling off the pony. Ori stares at him eagerly, his eyes bright as he watches Bilbo.

"What is it you want to know?" Bilbo asks, staring down at Myrtle's shaggy back.

"Do all hobbits have such big feet?" Ori asks; flushing to the roots of his hair as Bilbo looks over at him.

"Yes, they do," Bilbo says patiently; trying to look away from the scribe's red cheeks. "We all have large and bare feet."

"Is that why you have no beard?" Ori blushes even more, ducking his head. "I mean, I just saw that none of the hobbits had beards….But your feet." Bofur bursts out laughing, his shoulders shaking with mirth. The scribe flushes even more, ducking his head as he looks over at Bilbo. He swallows hard as he watches the scribe, a small ache in his chest. Ori's cheeks were scarlet and reminded him of his roses at home. For a moment, Bilbo nearly smiles—then he remembers the scribe's words from last night.

"We can grow beards but facial hair isn't considered attractive among hobbits," Bilbo shrugs stiffly. "All of us have large feet." He says, watching as Ori scribbles frantically.

"No facial hair?" Nori calls over his shoulder, smirking widely. "No wonder I thought you were a lass at first. No facial hair; all that fussing over useless things." Bilbo bites his lower lip, struggling to hold back the tears as everyone roars with laughter.

"Are all hobbits so—stout?" Ori asks through his dying laughs. Bilbo raises an eyebrow, biting his lip harder as Ori gestures towards his stomach.

"Maybe that's the real reason he's a bachelor," Bofur winks at Bilbo. "Don't want to share your food, Bilbo?" Again everyone roars with laughter, not noticing how Bilbo clumsily urges Myrtle forward. He settles next to Gandalf, breathing shakily as the wizard stares at him from beneath his hat. Behind him Bofur frowns, looking down at his hands ashamed as Ori tucks his journal away; glaring at his older brother's back.


	3. Insecurities

So this chapter just completely got away from me. It's the longest one so far for this story. And I only intended to take this story to like 10 chapters or so. But it is becoming so much bigger and I'm just going to create this super long story that goes through the whole journey. Warning: there is some homophobia in this chapter. These are not my personal views and it is not my intention to offend. Thank you so much to EquusGold; Candygrrl20; idrylla; MorikoKitsune; Kristiania; an-ordinary-potato; Death of a Dark Angel; mmkbtk; CrazyFanGirl18; Gaara'slilsis; Ciel-hime; BrendaBanner1234; Nara Midori; viovio; Monster of men; Atlantis Sinatra and cococamper for the follows and favorites.

Soniccouples10: I am the type that I cannot not finish a story. I hate when people just never update or don't continue and leave for with only a couple chapters. This story was originally going to only be about 10 chapters or so. But I have a feeling it's going to become something much bigger and go through the whole quest.

Death of a Dark Angel: It's a little bit happier here...With a sprinkle of feels to balance everything out.

Basil: Thank you; I will most definitely be continuing it :3

* * *

Thorin calls for the company to stop just as the sun begins to dip behind the clouds. Bilbo nearly sighs with relief as he clambers off Myrtle. But there's no time for relaxation as Thorin begins barking orders.

"Kili, take the burglar and get some firewood." Thorin doesn't even bother to glance at Bilbo. Bilbo sighs; handing Myrtle's reins over to Ori's waiting hands as he follows after Kili. The dark haired dwarf is quiet as they walk; his head downcast. Bilbo glances back at the company, fading in the distance as they move deeper into the forest. He hesitates, clearing his throat. Kili barely glances back at him; his shoulders hunched.

"Is everything all right, Kili?" Bilbo asks.

"I'm fine." Kili mumbles. Bilbo had spent enough time around his little cousins to know when they were lying and it was painfully obvious that Kili was lying to him. Crossing his arms over his chest, Bilbo glares at the dark haired dwarf's back.

"Kili, I know that's a lie," Bilbo doesn't miss the way Kili's shoulders stiffen. "Now, please tell me what is bothering you." Kili sighs, turning to face him.

"You shouldn't let what Nori said get to you," Kili says softly, looking anywhere but at Bilbo. "He's teased me about my beard before," He absentmindedly rubs a hand over his stubble. "I may not know what it is, you hobbits find attractive. But you certainly don't look like a lass." Kili promises, his cheeks flushing red as he catches Bilbo staring at him.

"He's made fun of you before?" Bilbo asks, taking a hesitant step closer to Kili. Kili refuses to meet his eye at first, staring down at his booted feet. Kili sighs, nodding dejectedly. "You get teased often?" Bilbo asks softly.

"I'm not very attractive by dwarf standards." Kili mumbles, his hand ghosting over his stubble. Bilbo crosses his arms over his chest; anger flooding his body.

"Now see here," Bilbo objects. "There's nothing wrong with not having a beard, Kili. And don't listen to those who tease you. You have as big a heart as any dwarf and that's worth more than any amount of facial hair." Kili stares at him with wide eyes; his mouth gaping open and closed. He inhales sharply, striding forward. Bilbo tenses as Kili draws him in for a hug, burying his nose into his copper curls. Bilbo hesitantly raises a hand, patting Kili on the back gently.

"Do you mean it?" Kili whispers and Bilbo can hear the tears in his voice. "Do you mean what you said?"

"Yes, I do." Bilbo promises him and nearly cries himself as Kili gives a shuddering sigh. He pulls away slowly, his head bowed low.

"Thank you," Kili whispers, giving Bilbo a shy smile. His face becomes sheepish as he looks over his shoulder towards the campsite. "We should finish collecting firewood before uncle comes to collect us." Bilbo nods, following after Kili. The two work in silence for a bit, focused on their task. Kili glances up at him a couple times, his face curious. He opens his mouth, stopping himself each time with a headshake. Bilbo finally sighs, shaking his head.

"What is it, Kili?" Bilbo asks. Kili has the decency to look embarrassed as he once again looks over his shoulder at Bilbo.

"I was just wondering," Kili begins carefully; fiddling with the sleeve of his tunic. "Just why do you live alone?" His tone is nothing like the teasing one he used a couple nights ago but full of curiosity. Bilbo's throat tightens as he glances back at Kili; his arms tightening around the firewood. "Is there nobody you're courting?" Bilbo struggles to compose himself, clearing his throat as he looks anywhere but at Kili.

"My father passed away in the Fell Winter and my mother—she was just never the same after his death. She lived but she was not the same woman I knew."

"Do hobbits have ones like dwarves do?" Kili asks; tone earnest. Bilbo's eyebrows furrow as Kili's words sink in.

"I don't believe so," Bilbo drawls, tugging on his lower lip. "What is a one exactly?"

"Dwarves only love once in their lives," Kili says wisely. "Each of us has a one—the one we'll love for life."

"No, I can't say that hobbits have anything like that," Bilbo shakes his head. "My mother loved my father deeply though and after losing him—she just never got over the grief," Bilbo had been forced to watch his mother falling apart. He'd spent days wishing he could stop the tears that never ceased to fall from Belladonna Took's eyes. There'd been many mornings she forgot to eat; lying in bed and staring at the ceiling dejectedly. Bilbo had spent many mornings bringing her tiny bits of breakfast; trying in vain to coax her to eat. On her good days; Bilbo was able to convince her to leave bed and dress herself. On the worst days; Belladonna cried and sobbed until her throat was raw. "There were a lot more bad days than good towards the end." Bilbo whispers. Kili stares at him with sympathy, shuffling his feet awkwardly.

"What was she like?" Kili finally asks; his voice quiet.

"She was very unusual for a hobbit—quite adventurous you see. She even made it as far as Rivendell once." Kili's nose wrinkles at the mention of Rivendell.

"Elves, she wanted to see elves?" Kili splutters, his nose still wrinkled. Bilbo struggles not to laugh, his lower lip quivering with mirth. "Why would she want to see elves and not dwarves?" Bilbo could only picture his mother on this adventure; the things those back in the Shire would say. The things they were saying about him now. He frowns, clearing his throat as he looks away.

"We really should get back to camp." Bilbo says, his grip on the firewood tightening. Kili doesn't say anything, nodding as he follows him.

When they arrive back at the campsite, Thorin's waiting for them. He glares down at Kili and Bilbo, his gaze thunderous. Bilbo swallows hard, looking down at his bare feet.

"What took you so long?" Thorin demands; looking back and forth between Bilbo and Kili. "Get lost burglar? Too busy whining about home to pay attention to where you were going?" Bilbo's cheeks flush red with fury as Thorin continues to glare at them.

"It was my fault, uncle," Kili interjects, not flinching even as his uncle gives him a murderous stare. "I thought I saw a rabbit and wanted to try and catch it for dinner. I thought Bombur could catch it for dinner. I ran ahead and left Mister Boggins." He lies smoothly; bowing his head apologetically.

"This quest is not the place for foolishness, Kili," Thorin snaps though his eyes soften. "Your foolishness could have cost you your life, were we in a more dangerous area." Kili nods, lifting his eyes to meet his uncle's.

"I'll take care for it not to happen again, uncle." Kili promises him. Thorin gives a satisfied nod as he turns away. Bilbo waits until he's out of earshot before he sighs, turning to face Kili.

"Thank you." He whispers, Kili gives him a gentle smile; squeezing his shoulder. Bilbo nearly winces from the pain of dwarf's strong grip but wills himself not; smiling back albeit it's slightly forced. Kili moves towards the impatient Glóin who stands, muttering about firewood. Bilbo follows after him, trying to calm his thumping heart from the stare Thorin gave him. Bilbo deposits the armful of firewood at Glóin's feet, sighing as he stretches. Kili turns towards him with a look of realization, his molten brown eyes wide.

"You never answered my question," Kili realizes, pointing at Bilbo. The hobbit in question stares blankly, a sinking feeling in his stomach. "_Is _there someone you're courting?" Bilbo swallows hard, all too aware of the company doing their best to listen in as they do their appointed tasks.

"Well—I…" Bilbo stutters, looking anywhere but at the dwarves. He instead catches the eye of Gandalf who watches him with knowing look. Bilbo gulps, wringing his hands nervously.

* * *

_Bilbo's back is pressed against a tree as Hamfast moves down his neck with feather light kisses. It was so wrong, all of it. But it felt so perfect, so right. Oh, so right. Bilbo struggled not to gasp as he ran his hands up and down Hamfast's back. _

_ "Improper," Bilbo muttered between kisses. "This is so very improper." Hamfast paused in his kisses, pulling away to look up at Bilbo with a tiny smile. _

_ "Improper in whose eyes?" Hamfast asked, raising an eyebrow. It would be improper in the Shire's eyes; in his father's. It would probably even be improper in his mother's eyes. Bilbo couldn't imagine his mother accepting this. She might have encouraged his adventures as a fauntling but here he was; thirty as his best friend held him up against a tree and peppered his neck with kisses. _

_ "Everyone would find it improper," Bilbo whispered, suddenly all too aware of the party going on. He only hoped everyone was too distracted by the food, ale and dancing to notice them gone. "You know they would find it improper." He said with a sigh as Hamfast rested his head against Bilbo's chest. _

_ "Do you find it improper?" Hamfast asked gently as his fingers fiddled with the brass buttons of Bilbo's waistcoat. Bilbo found it frightening that he harbored these feelings—forbidden and he found it exciting. Improper though—yes. But the hopeful look in Hamfast's eyes stopped him from saying that. _

_ "No, of course not," Bilbo promised with a forced smile. Hamfast sighed, his warm breath fanning across Bilbo's neck. Goosebumps popped up on his skin as he gave a tiny sigh. Hamfast chuckled as he continued to fiddle with the brass buttons of Bilbo's coat. "I don't find it improper in the least bit." _

_ "You really should work on your lying skills," Hamfast said. Bilbo sighed, titling his head back further. "Then again, you never were very good at it to begin with." _

_ "Hamfast," Bilbo's tone was pleading. "I—it's just that." Hamfast made a humming noise as he stared up at Bilbo through his eyelashes. _

_ "I know what it is," Hamfast whispered. "You're a Baggins of Bag End and what would the others say?" Bilbo knew exactly what the others would say about him—about Hamfast, about their families. _

_ "I know what they'll say," Bilbo murmured, stroking Hamfast's black curls. "I do care for you, truly I do." Bilbo promised him as he pressed a light kiss to his forehead. Hamfast made a quiet humming sound once again; his head drooped. _

_ "I know you do Mister Bilbo," Hamfast whispered, not missing the way Bilbo stiffened at the formality. "I know you do. You must know I truly care for you too." Bilbo swallowed hard as he nodded, his chin brushing Hamfast's silky curls. _

_ "But we cannot carry on like this, can we?" Bilbo asked softly. Hamfast stiffened as he sighed, shaking his head. _

_ "Is this what you want, Mister Bilbo?" No, Bilbo didn't want his dear friend to be mocked for loving him; isolated and given looks of disgust over him. _

_ "No, it's not," Bilbo's voice cracked and he tried desperately not to cry. "It's not at all what I want. But you deserve more than me—better than me."_

_ "I don't want anyone but you." Hamfast reminded him, his fingers curling around the back of Bilbo's neck. "_

_ "But you deserve better than me," Better than someone determined to hide their relationship for fear of what would happen. "You deserve someone who will shout their love for you to the Shire—loud enough for all of Middle Earth to hear." It was then Bilbo noticed the eyes watching him. They gleamed and Bilbo swallowed hard, knowing that the person in the shadows had heard them. _

_ "Why Bilbo Baggins," The high pitched, nasal tone of Lobelia Bracegirdle reached his ears as she stepped from the shadows. In her hand, she clutched her umbrella which she twirled as she stared at the two of them. Hamfast pulled away from Bilbo; standing by his side with his chin raised defiantly. "I never knew you partook in such—" She paused to sneer at the two of them. "Disgusting habits. But then again, you were always odd." Hamfast glared at Lobelia, stepping forward. _

_ "As disgusting as your eavesdropping?" Hamfast said, practically spitting venom. Lobelia scoffed as she looked at Bilbo; her eyes still glinting. _

_ "You are a disgrace to the Baggins name," Bilbo couldn't—wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing him cry. "But what can I expect? Your mother—going off on adventures, mingling with elves! It's no wonder you're this way." Hamfast's fists clenched open and closed as he stepped forward; glaring at her. _

_ "How dare you speak to Mister Bilbo that way," Hamfast growled through clenched teeth. Lobelia didn't flinch as she raised an eyebrow; snorting. "You know nothing." _

_ "I know that he's disgracing the Baggins name with these disgusting habits. A freak like him doesn't deserve love." Bilbo didn't hear the rest as he took off running towards Bag End; ignoring the cries of Hamfast and the other hobbits, asking where he was going. When his mother and father asked why he ran off, Bilbo said he had a stomachache._

* * *

"Bilbo," He nearly jumps at the sound of his name. Flushing he looks up to see Kili staring at him with furrowed eyebrows. "Are you okay?" A quick glance around the campsite tells him that he's been standing there for some time. All the dwarves stare at him with looks varying from concern, indifference and annoyance from Thorin and Dwalin. Bilbo swallows hard, fiddling with the brass buttons of his waistcoat.

"I intended to court someone," Bilbo confesses, staring down at his feet. "But—it's complicated, you see."

"Did they not return your feelings?" Balin asks gently, staring at Bilbo with sympathy. Bilbo shakes his head, sighing.

"They did—still do, I suppose." Bilbo throws a pleading look at Gandalf; his fingers twisting around the brass buttons. Gandalf stands up from where he sits, leaning against his staff. Bilbo nearly sighs with relief as he tosses the wizard a thankful look.

"Will supper be ready any time soon, Master Bombur?" Gandalf asks, looking at the plump dwarf from beneath the brim of his hat. "I believe I speak for all of us when I say how eager we are to taste your stew." Bombur blushes, nodding apologetically.

"As soon we get a fire going I can start." He promises, giving a pointed look at Glóin. Bilbo takes the opportunity to move away from the dwarves; walking quickly towards Gandalf.

"Thank you, Gandalf." Bilbo whispers gratefully as he sits down by the wizard. He absentmindedly twists the brass buttons of his waistcoat as he tries to return his breathing to normal.

"Bilbo my dear fellow," Gandalf says quietly, his eyes focused on Bilbo's hand that plays with the buttons. "You should not allow the unkind words of a narrow mind bother you so much."

"Easy for you to say when you weren't there," Bilbo grumbles. "And when you weren't the target of the words."

"It's certainly a good thing I was not there. Else the Shire would be short one hobbit but one toad richer." Bilbo doesn't try to fight his smile at Gandalf's words, chuckling quietly into a cupped hand.

"Why would someone ever be unkind towards you, Mister Baggins?" Bilbo looks up to see Ori standing in front of him, his eyes wide. Bilbo looks one more to Gandalf but the wizard refuses to meet his eye, digging for his pipe. For a moment, Bilbo swears he sees Lobelia Bracegirdle standing in front of him; wielding her umbrella as she whispers sharp, biting words. But when he blinks, it's still the young scribe standing before him and waiting for an answer.

"The one I intended to court returned my feelings," Bilbo mutters, allowing his hand to fall away from his buttons. "But—it just couldn't work." Ori stares at him curiously, his lips pursed.

"How come it couldn't work?" Ori asks quietly, leaning closer to Bilbo. Bilbo swallows hard at the scribe's sudden closeness.

"I wanted them to happy; to be with someone who didn't have to hide their love. I wanted them to be with someone who could show them off. Someone who; they wouldn't have to deal with all the ugliness that came from loving someone like me." Ori stares at Bilbo silently, his eyes going soft. Bilbo looks away from the scribe's wide brown eyes, swallowing hard. Hamfast he knew was probably at his home now; kissing Bell's forehead. Bilbo's smial will sit empty as ever; silent. Nobody is there to read his books; listen to Hamfast's gentle humming as he tends the garden. No tea will be made; no second breakfast or elevenses. No, Bilbo sits here with a grumbling stomach; no books to read, no humming to listen to. But tonight, the feeling of loneliness isn't as strong as Ori watches him with gentle eyes.

* * *

...Like I said it got away from me. And the ratings going up because of the homophobia and later chapters.


	4. Late Talks

Thank you so much to Saria0912; TheHeartsPath; Princess Shania; Charlie Chaos; Ava Nova; ; Cheriesherry; LarsNKaie and Tendy4Ten for the follows and favorites. Sorry the update took me some time but life came up and all that. But anyways, this chapter was another way that got away from me. Hope you enjoy it!

Guest: The dwarves doubt Bilbo a lot from the beginning and I wanted to show that. Gandalf noticed that Bilbo was upset because he's been around Bilbo for several years and knows the hobbit better than the dwarves. Kili and Bilbo bond becasue Kili's been made fun of for his beard before and knows how it is to be on Bilbo's end when it comes to that. Ori will change gradually as will the other dwarves when they begin to see Bilbo prove himself and he opens up to them more.

* * *

Bilbo can't sleep that night, his mind plagued by memories of his mother and Bag End. He tosses and turns on his bedroll; squeezing his eyes shut tightly and hoping for sleep. He eventually gives up with a sigh, standing and moving over towards Bofur who sits on watch. Bilbo plops down next to the hatted dwarf who offers him a dimpled smile. The two sit in silence for a couple moments. Bilbo smokes his pipe contently while Bofur carves.

"Ori's quite fascinated by you," Bofur says lightly, his hands never slowing. "None of us have seen a hobbit before."

"Most hobbits never travel out of the Shire you see. I can only imagine the things the others are saying about me back at home." Bofur gives him a strange look, raising an eyebrow.

"What sort of things could they possibly say about you?" Bofur asks him, his hands slowing on his carving.

"The other hobbits already see me as strange." Bilbo shrugs stiffly, his grip on his pipe tightening.

"What sort of things do hobbits find strange exactly?" Bofur asks.

"My mother was very adventurous—unusual for a hobbit lass, well a hobbit. When I was young, I loved the thoughts of adventures as a child. But after her death, I just sort of lost all love for adventures after that. And now, I'm on this adventure," Bilbo pauses, chuckling quietly. "They're probably calling me all sorts of names; wondering what I was thinking when I ran out my door."

"What _were _you thinking?" Bofur's eyes are wide with curiosity, his tone earnest. Bilbo bites his lip, thinking of all the days, nights spent alone. Wishing for companionship but only having his books. Sipping tea alone in his empty smial while the other hobbits all carried on with their lives; completely unaware of Bilbo Baggins. Watching Hamfast from his study window, listening to the gentle humming as he planted roses. Silently wishing but never asking for Hamfast to join him inside for some tea; some honey cakes; a smoke—anything.

"I was thinking I was lonely," Bilbo whispers. "I'm so very used to being alone, Bofur. Hobbits are expected to settle down eventually, start families. But those who wanted to court weren't truly interested in me. They were interested in Bag End and the title that came with marrying me."

"Don't you have family back home?" Bofur asks quietly, scooting closer to Bilbo. "I mean—siblings at least? Or a cousin…Don't you have anyone?"

"Oh, I have countless cousins. But none of them can fill the hole," Bilbo trails off, sighing. Bofur watches him concerned, his head cocked. "They think me so used to living alone; being a loner that none of them think to ask if I'm okay."

"And are you okay?" Bofur's tone is earnest. Bilbo hesitates, staring at the dwarve's hands. He'd stopped carving, the wood sitting in his hand forgotten.

"I like to think I'm okay," Bilbo confesses. "But thinking isn't the same as really being okay."

"Can I ask you something Bilbo?" The hobbit in question gives a strained, tight smile.

"You just did now didn't you?" Bilbo tries to ask lightly but his voice cracks. Bofur gives him a halfhearted smile, nodding.

"Aye, I did. But I wanted to ask another," Bofur's smile doesn't falter as he speaks. "You never answered our question earlier. Is there someone you're courting?" The dreaded question had been asked yet again. Bilbo's stomach twists as he stares down at his hands. Hamfast was at home by now, sleeping peacefully; tucked into bed with Bell. Bilbo doubted that he had even thought of him. And now, Bofur sat staring at him with such an open, concerned expression. And he hadn't dared speak of Hamfast but only once since the adventure began.

"As I said earlier, I intended to court someone," He pauses, observing Bofur's reaction. The hatted dwarf stares at him, his head cocked. "But it would have been frowned upon in the Shire—found extremely inappropriate."

"Now what's inappropriate about loving someone?" Bofur demands. Bilbo had heard several inappropriate and rather raunchy stories and jokes from Bofur. But now, _he_ was the one questioning what was inappropriate.

"It someone of the same," Bilbo's throat constricts. "Do you remember when I mentioned my gardener, Hamfast?" Bofur pauses, nodding so hard the flaps of his hat bob up and down. Realization dawns on Bofur's face and Bilbo's stomach clenches. He prepares to run as the dwarf blinks owlishly.

"You and your gardener then," Bofur points to Bilbo, clearing his throat. "You two were—you intended to court him?" Bilbo nods slowly, sighing as he draws his knees up to his chest.

"Hamfast understands me in a way—he's always put me above everyone else. Even when the others questioned why I would spend so much time with my gardener, he stayed by my side. We hid the affair as best we could, you see."

"What happened?" Bofur whispers, tugging on one of the flaps of his hat as he stares at Bilbo.

"It started with me just sitting in the garden and reading while he worked. Hamfast would always hum some tune. Some days he invited me over to come and see what he'd planted—always very proud of his work, you see. But most of the time, he stopped himself before he asked. I always went over though."

"Did your parents, I mean," Bofur pauses; clearing his throat. "Did they know about you and him?"

"They assumed we were just friends," Bilbo murmurs. "I think my mother might have had some idea of what we really were. But if she did, she never said a thing about it. Whenever I came in late from sitting in the garden with him; late for tea, dinner, supper—she just smiled at me. I intended to court Hamfast; I wanted so badly to court him." Bilbo whispers bitterly.

"What stopped you?" Bilbo scoffs at Bofur's question, shaking his head.

"There was a party and Hamfast and I stole away from everyone else. We hid in the forest, kissing and just talking," Bilbo flushes red, ducking his head. "I kept telling him this was so improper. Everyone in the Shire would have found it so improper. Even my mother, who encouraged me to go on adventures and be different than a hobbit—I feared it would have been too strange even for her."

"That's a strange way to refer to love," A soft voice interjects. Bilbo jumps, his heart thumping in his chest. He turns his head and finds Ori joining them. "Please, go on Mister Bilbo." Ori begs, blinking sleepily at Bilbo. He takes a shaky breath, ducking his head.

"Hamfast deserved better than me. A life with me would have meant hiding our love as others shunned us. Our families would have shunned us, made us outcasts. They would probably spend some time trying to remain close to us; send letters and invite us to tea. But eventually, the gossip would become too much for them and they would stop."

"So you didn't stay with him then?" Ori asks, drawing his knees to his chest.

"A dreadful woman found us in that forest. Lobelia Bracegirdle had followed and watched us. She called it a disgusting habit and told me I was a disgrace to the Baggins name. Hamfast defended me but I ran away," Bilbo takes a long breath, shaking his head. "After that, I told him that we couldn't continue on. I desperately wanted Hamfast to be happy. He deserved someone who didn't have to hide their love. Or be shunned for loving me. So I sat back and watched him court Bell Goodchild."

"So all this time as long as he's been your gardener, you've just sat back and watched him?" Ori asks softly. Bilbo nods, holding his knees tighter as he's overwhelmed by a wave of exhaustion.

"It's for the best, you see," Bilbo sighs, standing up. "I should really try and get some sleep—goodnight Bofur, Ori." He gives them what he hopes is a light smile as he moves back to his bedroll. Bilbo lies down, closing his eyes tightly and hoping desperately for sleep to come. From behind him comes the sound of footsteps and someone dropping their bedroll by his. Bilbo rolls over, opening his eyes to see Ori laying down on his own bedroll.

* * *

"Shouldn't you be sleeping by your brothers?" Bilbo asks, looking towards the others. "Won't Dori have a fit when he wakes up?" Ori shrugs awkwardly on his side.

"Not many places I can go," Ori whispers. The scribe lays silent for a couple moments, his eyes wandering towards Bilbo's feet. "Aren't you cold?" Ori asks, his eyebrows furrowing with worry.

"I'm all right," Bilbo follows Ori's gaze towards his feet, realization dawning on his face. Ori flushes, looking away from Bilbo. "Hobbit feet are tough—the cold doesn't bother me."

"Is that why none of you wear shoes?" Ori's eyebrows remained furrowed as he tries desperately to avoid staring at Bilbo's feet.

"The bottoms of our feet are quite thick. They're rather like leather," Bilbo chuckles quietly, glancing towards his feet. "So we don't need shoes, you see?" Ori nods, a small smile on his face.

"Will you tell me that again in the morning? That way I can write it down," Ori's tone is light, excited. "You have hair on the tops of your feet. Is that why you don't have a beard?"

"We can grow facial hair if we wish. But it's not considered very attractive by hobbit standards," He pauses as Ori reaches up, running his fingers over his beard. "That's not to say you all don't have lovely beards." Ori flushes red, ducking his face into his scarf. Bilbo pauses, his own cheeks turning red as he realizes what he's said.

"You would look quite attractive with a beard, Mister Bilbo," Ori mumbles, glancing up at Bilbo. "Have you never tried to grow one?"

"No, I haven't," Bilbo admits. "I never really had much desire for one," Bilbo's eyes widen as Ori's words sink in. "Ori, you said I would look quite attractive with a beard." Bilbo exclaims quietly, pointing at him. The dwarf in question flushes red, ducking further into his scarf.

"Well, yes you would be quite attractive with a beard. That's not to say you aren't attractive now. Oh," Ori groans quietly, lifting his head. "I'm making a mess of things aren't I?" Bilbo gives him a patient, delicate smile, shaking his head.

"It's quite all right, Ori." He promises, patting the young dwarve's shoulder. Ori stares at him silently, his head cocked.

"Do you still think about him?" Ori asks. "Your gardener, do you still think about him?" How many seconds, hours, weeks—months had Bilbo thought of Hamfast? The gardener was a constant in his mind. Bilbo thought of him when he awoke, as they travelled, on their rare stops. At night, Bilbo especially thought of him then. Bilbo takes a long breath, sighing quietly.

"Yes, I think about him often." Bilbo confesses.

"Are you thinking about him now?" Ori presses. Bilbo looks at the scribe, his eyes flickering across Ori's face. The baby faced dwarf's cheeks are freckled, barely visible in the dark. The warm, light brown eyes often wide with curiosity stare at Bilbo now, their curiosity bright as day. Ori's beard is nowhere near as decorated, nowhere near as intricate as his brother's or the other dwarves. But it's there with his braids hanging down by his face. And no, Bilbo's not thinking of Hamfast now. He's staring at the freckled cheeks of the scribe, his eyes flickering over Ori's face.

"No, I'm not." Bilbo whispers; his heart thumping wildly in his chest.

"What are you thinking about?" Ori whispers, his voice softer than Bilbo's. He was thinking of the baby faced scribe lying across from him. The baby faced scribe with freckled cheeks and warm eyes. The baby faced scribe with his bowl cut, delicate braids hanging down by his face. The baby faced scribe with his beard, although nowhere near as decorated or intricate, is just as lovely. The baby faced scribe wearing a baggy cardigan, knitted gloves and scarf.


	5. Morning Cuddles

Thank you so much bookreader1617; FallionMist; Skye Kitten; xSilverSun; createiveponies; Blueeyes37; dawnhallj and Alineah for the favorites and follows. I apologize in advance if there's any mistakes. I basically took the troll scene from one of my other Hobbit fanfictions which was already typed out and tried to edit it to suit this one. So if you see a mistake, please let me know so I can correct it. I kinda switched some details around but I don't think I left anything out.

* * *

Bilbo wakes up entirely too hot. He swipes a hand across his forehead, nearly groaning at the sticky, dried sweat there. But the groan gets caught in his throat when he looks down and finds just exactly where all the extra heats coming from. Ori's hugging him as though he's a teddy bear; clinging desperately to him. His nose is buried firmly into Bilbo's chest; a peaceful look on his face. Any other time, Bilbo might find this a little bit comical. But with Dori and Nori sleeping mere feet away and with the knowledge that they could wake up at any moment—well this is just a terrifying moment for him.

"Ori," Bilbo whispers; squeezing the scribe's shoulder. "Ori, come on now. You have to wake up. Ori doesn't reply, mumbling incoherently as he snuggles closer. Bilbo gives him a gentle shake, looking anxiously around the camp. "Ori, if you don't want to have Balin write a contract for a new burglar, I'm going to need you to let go."

"I must agree with Mr. Baggins, my lad," A glove clad hand comes to rest on Ori's shoulder; carefully disentangling him from Bilbo. Bilbo swallows hard, blushing as he raises his eyes to meet Balin's. The white haired dwarf has a wide smile on his face; his eyes shining with mirth. "Dori and Nori aren't awake yet. And I'm not going to tell them." Bilbo nearly sighs with relief at the older dwarve's promise. He stands up, straightening his waistcoat and trousers with his cheeks still flushed. Ori chooses that moment to wake up, his eyes still bleary with sleep.

"Is it time to get up already?" He asks almost childishly, rubbing at his eyes.

"Aye laddie, it is," Balin says good-naturedly, giving Ori's shoulder a gentle pat. "We've quite a ways to go today." He gives them a final smile; turning and walking towards the fire where Bombur stands, preparing breakfast. Ori stands in the same spot, still blinking owlishly.

"Are you all right, Ori?" Bilbo asks worriedly. The young scribe nods, rubbing at his sleep bleared eyes.

"I just wish I hadn't woken up quite yet," He stares at Bilbo thoughtfully, his head cocked. "I was having the most wonderful of dreams." Bilbo turns away, unable to stop the blush on his cheeks at the thoughts of just _what _those dreams were.

Bilbo rides Myrtle silently that day, offering no stories or songs or talk. Even as the sky begins to darken, he doesn't offer a word about the possible rain. It's Bofur who notices first, slowing his pony to ride alongside Bilbo.

"Everything okay this morning, Bilbo?" Bofur asks him worriedly, his eyebrows furrowed. Everything's perfectly fine except for the fact that instead of his thoughts being plagued by his gardener; they're being plagued by a freckle cheeked, baby faced scribe of a dwarf. And instead of the usual gut twisting nausea that comes with thinking of the gardener; the aching pain in his chest; there's a light fluttering in his stomach, his heart thumping so hard, it's a wonder the dwarves don't hear it.

"I'm fine Bofur," Bilbo promises him with what he hopes is a light smile. "I just didn't get enough sleep last night." Bofur nods understandingly, a slow, knowing grin spreading across his face.

"Sure it wasn't because you were too hot last night?" Bofur asks, winking at the stuttering, blushing hobbit. "The lad had a death grip on you last night," Bofur muses, still smiling at Bilbo. "Ah, don't worry, Bilbo. Today will be just fine." And the day was almost just fine was it not for the trolls.

* * *

Bilbo swore if he made it out of this; he was going to give the two dwarves a scolding worse than when his young cousins trampled his favorite flowers. That is, if he was able to find his voice which seemed to have disappeared at the sight before him. Three monstrous trolls sit around a fire, a cauldron simmering over the flames while one stirs the contents inside with a large spoon. Another one sat sits beside the fire, glazed eyes staring hungrily while the one carrying the ponies drops them into an old, worn down, breaking pen. Bilbo was ready to faint as the troll stirring the pot began talking in a deep, gravelly voice.

"Mutton yesterday, mutton today. And, blimey, if it don't look like mutton again tomorrow." He complains.

"Quit your griping!" The one who'd stolen the ponies snaps. "These ain't sheep. These are fresh nags."

"Oh!" The troll with the glazed eyes, wearing a vest whines. "I don't like 'orse. I never 'ave. Not enough fat on them."

"Well, it's better than that leathery old farmer," The cook mutters. "All skin and bones he was. I'm still picking bits of 'im out o' me teeth." A sick feeling settles in Bilbo's stomach at his words. The sick feeling only increases, as the troll with glazed eyes sneezes into the stew; causing an argument between the three of them. He takes his chance, moving quickly to the pen, tugging at the ropes. The ropes though old and frayed are tied strongly to ensure the ponies stay inside the corral.

"I hope you're going to gut these Nads," A troll complains and the voice comes nearer. "I don't like the stinky parts." There's a loud clang followed by a howl of pain. Bilbo's heart sinks with fear as he dives behind the pen.

"I said sit down!" One of the trolls snaps, sharpening a knife. He turns to the cooking troll as the vested one begins to sniffle. "I'm starving, are 'aving 'orse tonight or what?"

"Shut your cake hole!" The one cooking snaps. "You'll eat what I give ya!" The vested one sneezes again, grabbing a handkerchief from his waist belt. Bilbo tentatively lifts his head and catches sight of a sharp blade at the waist of the troll's loincloth. Taking a deep breath, Bilbo crawls forward on his stomach and towards the knife wielding troll. He's reaching for it, his blood roaring in his eyes as the knife sharpening trolls voice rings out.

"Me guts are rumbling. I got to snack on something. Flesh, I need flesh!" There's no time to run, no time to turn away as the sniffling, vested troll desperately grasps behind himself; picking up Bilbo and sneezing on him. Disgust washes over in waves as the troll pulls back in amazement; gasping.

"Blimey! Bert! Bert, look what's come out of me 'ooter! It's got arms and legs and everything!" He yells excitedly.

"What is it?" The cooking troll asks in shock, crowding around to get a better look at the snot covered hobbit.

"I don't know but I don't like the way it wriggles around." Bilbo's dropped to the ground, scrambling to his feet. The knife wielding troll growls as he holds the blade to Bilbo's chest.

"What are you then?" The troll named Bert demands.

"I'm a burglar—ah, Hobbit!" He stutters.

"A burglar—obbit?" The vested one says, confused.

"Can we cook him?" The cooking troll asks hopefully, looking Bilbo up and down.

"We can try!" The vested one says, moving to snatch Bilbo up.

"Perhaps there's more of these burglar-obbits 'round these parts," The cook says hopefully. "Might be enough for a pie!" The troll, Bert reaches for Bilbo with meaty fingers. Bilbo ducks beneath his hand; running for the clearing. He's cut off by the cooking troll who towers over him. "Come here, you little—" Bilbo tries to run but he's scooped up by the legs and dangled upside down. "Gotcha!" The troll declares triumphantly. "Now are there any of you little fellas hiding where you shouldn't?"

"No," Bilbo says, shaking his head.

"He's lying!" The vest wearing troll snarls. "Hold his toes over the fire! Make him squeal!" There's a rustling from the bushes as a figure rushes out, swinging a sword and slicing the troll on the back of his leg. The troll lets out a howl of pain; still clutching Bilbo tight in his hand. Bilbo's eyes widen as he recognizes Kili; a menacing look on his face as he growls.

"Drop him!"

"You what?" The cooking troll says, staring down at the dwarf with a look of confusion.

"I said, drop him." He growls again. The troll does exactly that, throwing Bilbo to Kili. They land in a heap on the ground; pain shooting through Bilbo's body. From behind them comes furious battle cries as the company rushes out, weapons raised and ready as they rush the trolls. As he scrambles off Kili, Bilbo doesn't miss the worried look Ori tosses his way, slingshot in hand.


	6. Just Bilbo

Thank you so much to BlackBloodHood; rea12; Steelrider; 2040; AvisMidnight10294; fireyhell; EverydayMagic17; me no aoi for the follows and favorites!

AranitaGambade: Thank you :3 I got it corrected!

Little Soldier Mine: I'm sorry ;:; I like Hamfast and Bilbo as a couple. They remind a lot of Sam and Frodo and have a lot of possibility. I may write something for them later so they can have their own personal story and spotlight.

* * *

Bilbo scrambles off Kili with the full intention to give Gandalf a piece of his mind whenever that blasted wizard returned. Adventure indeed! He had seen no warnings of trolls in the contract. Trolls were just supposed to tales for curious fauntlings not something to be seen up close. Bilbo scrambles under the feet of the trolls, desperate to stay out of the way of the battling dwarves and stumbling trolls. His heart pounds wildly in his chest; the blood roaring in his ears as a troll nearly brings its giant foot down on him. He was not the only one scared. Behind him, the ponies shriek and paw the ground. Dropping to his knees, he crawls towards the pen where the ponies are being held captive. A knife lay on the ground; abandoned and forgotten by the trolls. Bilbo lifts it with a huff, practically stumbling beneath the weight of the knife. Cutting the blade along the ropes of the pen, the chaos behind him fades away as Bilbo focuses. He nearly sighs with relief when the ropes about to give way. But the sighs caught in his throat as he lifted into the air with a loud cry.

"Bilbo!" Kili cries below him. Bilbo makes the mistake of looking down and oh Yavanna, nausea overwhelms him. The trolls hold his arms and legs apart; smug gazes on their faces as they stare down at the dwarves. Kili starts forward, raising his sword with a furious look. But Thorin puts out his arm, stopping Kili with a firm 'no'.

"Lay down your arms! Or we'll rip his off!" He jerks one of Bilbo's arms in his hands to emphasize his point; one of the other trolls gripping Bilbo, laughing as he watches. Thorin stands expressionless, his eyes like that of a corpses as he slowly and ever so reluctantly stabs his sword into the ground. The company follows suit with grumbles of anger and sighs; glaring up at the trolls.

The trolls make them disrobe to their underclothes before stuffing us all into disgusting, almost rotten smelling sacks. Bilbo gives a sigh as he's thrown onto a pile consisting of Thorin, Fili, Kili, Óin, Balin and Bombur. The others had been tied to a spit and were quickly hoisted over the fire; all of them shouting angrily as they were slowly turned.

"Don't bother cooking 'em!" The vested troll complains. "Let's just sit on 'em and squash 'em into jelly!"

"They should be sautéed and grilled with a sprinkled of sage," The cook argues as the other one rotates the giant spit.

"Never mind the seasoning," The spit turner growls. "We ain't got all night! Dawn ain't far away, let's get a move on; I don't fancy being turned to stone!" Bilbo stiffens as he stops wriggling around in the smelling sack. He glances at the slowly lightening sky. All he needed was some time.

"Wait!" He calls, the trolls looking down at him with annoyance. "You are making a terrible mistake!"

"You can't reason with them, they're half-wits!" Dori calls from his place on the spit.

"Half-wits?" Bofur echoes from his own spot on the spit. "What does that make us then?"

"I meant with the uh, with the seasoning." Bilbo continues, ignoring the dwarves' comments. He manages to get to his feet, hopping towards the trolls with difficulty.

"What about the seasoning?" The cook asks, his tone growing short.

"Well—have you smelt them?" Bilbo asks; gesturing with his head towards the dwarves still stuffed into sacks. "You're going to need something a lot stronger than sage before you plate this lot up." Behind him all the dwarves begin to howl, Glóin shouting calling him a traitor.

"What do you know about cooking dwarf?" The troll turning the spit demands. The cooking troll has turned away, leaning closer towards Bilbo.

"Shut up," He snaps. "Let the uh, flurgeburberer-hobbit talk."

"The secret to cooking dwarf is…" Bilbo trails off, looking around in a silent panic as everyone watches him.

"Yes? C'mon." The cooking troll says, impatiently.

"Yes, yes, I'm telling you!" Bilbo says quickly, looking around. "The secret is…To…Skin them first!" He declares. Again, the dwarves all begin yelling angrily as Bilbo ignores them.

"Tom, get me filletin' knife." The cook demands; holding out his hand towards the vested troll.

"What a load of rubbish!" The spit turning troll objects loudly. "I've eaten plenty with their skins on. Scoff 'em, I say, boots and all!"

"He's right." The vested troll declares, stalking over to the pile of dwarves on the ground. "Nothing wrong with a bit o' raw dwarf!" He picks up Bombur and dangles him above his mouth; the plump ginger dwarf's expression one of pure terror. "Nice and crunchy…" He begins to lower Bombur even more.

"No, not that one! He….He's infected!" Bilbo says, nodding slowly.

"You what?" The spit turning troll shouts.

"Yeah, he's got worms…In his…Tubes." Bilbo says desperately. The troll drops Bombur in disgust; backing away from the plump dwarf quickly. "In—in fact, they all have, they're infected with parasites! It's a terrible business. I wouldn't risk it, really I wouldn't."

"Parasites?" Óin says angrily. "Did he say parasites?"

"Yeah, I don't have parasites! You have parasites!" Kili shouts childishly. Bilbo sighs, rolling his eyes in frustration. Behind him a look of realization dawns in Thorin's eyes and he gives Kili a swift, sharp kick to the kick.

"I've got parasites as big as my arm!" Óin shouts.

"Mine are the biggest parasites, I've got huge parasites!" Kili adds. Soon all of the dwarves are shouting, tossing in their own words.

"We're riddled! Yes we are riddled and badly!" The trolls look down at Bilbo with annoyance and disgust.

"What would you have us do then?" The cook demands almost in a growl. "Let them all go?"

"Well…" Bilbo begins just to be poked in the chest by the cook.

"You think I don't know what you're up to?" The troll asks. "This little ferret is taking us for fools!"

"Ferret?" Bilbo repeats, indignation clear in his voice.

"Fools?" The spit turning one asks. And then, there's a figure that moves from the trees, standing tall on a boulder lying in the clear. I smile, as the tall familiar figure of the wizard comes into view.

"The dawn will take you all!" He shouts in his booming voice. The trolls all turn away to look at Gandalf.

"Who's that?"

"No idea."

"Can we eat him too?"

Lifting his staff, Gandalf brings it down with a powerful and solid strike, splitting the boulder in half; allowing bright dawn sunlight to spill into the clearing. Bilbo closes his eyes against the blinding light, the sound of the trolls shrieking in pain fading. When he opens his eyes, the trolls stand frozen in place, turned to stone statues. All the dwarves begin cheering, excitement filling the air and Bilbo sighs as Gandalf comes into the clearing. He frees those from everyone from the burlap saps and the dwarves move to get the others from the spit. Gathering his clothes, Bilbo ducks behind the now split boulder to change.

"Well, that's certainly an adventure to take home to the Shire," Bilbo says to himself with a nervous chuckle as he dresses. The troll snot though still there had dried into an even more disgusting mess that made him cringe as he finished buttoning his shirt. The only thing missing he realizes with a start was his vest. He steps back around the boulder where the dwarves stand; gathering their weapons, cursing the trolls or still getting dressed.

"Well done Bilbo," Gandalf says, coming up beside him. "Seems you did just fine without me." There's a small twinkle in his eyes as he looks down at Bilbo.

"I don't recall there being anything about trolls using me as a tissue in my contract," Bilbo crosses his arms. "Yavanna knows the Sackville-Baggins will love that story."

"Bilbo," Ori stands in front of the two, holding out his vest. "You didn't take your vest when you went to get dressed and I didn't want you to forget it." Bilbo gives him a grateful albeit dazed smile, watching silently as he moves back towards his waiting brothers.

"You okay there, my dear boy?" Gandalf asks.

"That's the first time he's called me Bilbo and not just Mr. Baggins or Mr. Bilbo." Bilbo whispers, his fingers clenching his vest tighter and not even caring that it's covered with dried troll snot.


	7. Giant Rabbits and Wargs

Thank you so much to I Just Won A Free Toaster Oven; 1donerland pixie and The Cajun Phoneix for the follows and favorites! They are greatly appreciated. Again, I'm so sorry. This story kinda took a backseat while I worked on my others but it'll be wrapped up hopefully soon. On another note, I went and saw Dracula Untold tonight. Oh my God, Luke Evans was absolutely incredible and the movie was amazing. Go see it. I own nothing, all rights go to their respectful owners.

* * *

If the troll snot had been bad, the troll cave was downright disgusting. Bilbo nearly collapses at the very scent just coming from the mouth of the cave. The dwarves seem to share his opinion, all of them groaning and some of them clapping hands over their noses. Bilbo opts to stay out of the cave, sitting down and drawing his knees to his chest. Ori comes to sit next to him, playing with his slingshot as he sits.

"Are you okay?" He whispers, snorting as soon as the question leaves his mouth. "Sorry, bad thing to ask." He mutters, staring at the poor hobbit, covered in troll snot; dirt and sweat.

"I've been better." He grumbles, drawing his knees to his chest.

"You showed courage and quick thinking in a dangerous situation," Ori says confidently, looking him in the eye. "You have unspoiled goodness in you, Bilbo…." He trails off a blush coloring his cheeks. "There's more in you that you've yet to show us." Ori finishes as the company emerges from the cave, all of them gasping for fresh air. Thorin and Gandalf are in the back; both holding dusty, cob web covered swords. Although one of the swords Gandalf held was much smaller; like a larger knife. Gandalf moves over to the pair, nodding to Bilbo.

"Bilbo," He says, holding out the smaller sword. "Here, this should be about your size." Bilbo looks at the blade in his hands with a newfound nervousness as he shakes his head.

"No, I—I can't take this, Gandalf," He says, moving to give back the dagger. Gandalf shakes his head patiently.

"The blade is of Elvish make which means it will glow blue when Orcs or goblins are nearby." The wizard explains, a proud look on his face. Bilbo looks down at the weapon, an anxious feeling blossoming in his chest.

"I have…I have never used a sword in my life."

"And I hope you never have to." Gandalf says, his blue eyes solemn as he watches Bilbo. "But if you do, remember this: true courage is knowing not when to take a life but when to spare one." Bilbo stares down at the blade solemnly, the anxious feeling still strong. The moments short lived though; the sound of loud, crashing in the trees surrounding them. Everyone's on their feet, bodies tensed and weapons drawn as Thorin shouts a warning.

"Something's coming!" He warns, drawing his own sword. Gandalf straightens up, his eyes bright and alert. Bilbo calls after him but is cut off. Gandalf is already rushing towards the sound, yelling orders.

"Stay together! Hurry now! Arm yourselves!" He warns. Bilbo draws his new sword slowly, uncertainly, a wary look on his face.

"Bilbo, let's go!" Bofur shouts, running after the others. Bilbo sighs, dashing after them. They come to a stop on a grassy ridge, weapons at the ready. His fingers ache as I grip my sword tightly, the crashing noise coming closer.

"Thieves! Fire! Murder!" A voice yells as a sleigh pulled by rabbits barrels into the clearing. The man driving the sleigh is an older man, dressed in ragged, frayed, brown robes with a large patched hat. His hairs a tangled rats nest and something that looks like fungus is caked on the side of his face and hair. Bilbo grimaces as he realizes what it truly is but Gandalf sighs, a relieved tone in his voice.

"Radagast. It's Radagast the Brown." He says calmly, approaching the other wizard. Bilbo sighs, lowering his sword. "What on earth are you doing here?" Gandalf continues.

"Something's wrong," Radagast says, wringing his hands. "Something is terribly wrong!"

"Yes?" Gandalf prompts. Radagast goes to speak, his face taking on a strange, distance look. The company all stare expectantly, waiting.

"Just give me a minute. Um….Oh! I had a thought and now I've lost it. It was—it was there on the tip of my tongue!" The Brown wizard's face goes slack. "Oh," He says, his voice strange. "But it's not a thought at all. It's a silly old…." He sticks his tongue out, revealing a thin brown bug. "Stick insect." I smile despite the feeling of disgust in my stomach as Gandalf pulls the creature out of the wizard's mouth; placing it into his palm. The Brown wizard stands cooing over the insect. Gandalf clears his throat, interrupting the wizard's doting.

"You were saying, Radagast?" The Brown wizard glances back at the company, his eyes full of suspicion as they move over everyone.

"Come, Radagast. You can tell me about your er….Problem down here." And the two wizards move out of the clearing; further into the trees and out of sight.

"I must say," Bofur plucks at Bilbo's waistcoat, his face twisted with a smile. "I don't think troll snot suits ye." Bilbo groans and wrinkles his nose.

"It was absolutely disgusting," Bilbo sighs. "I never thought I'd be scooped up by some troll and used as a tissue."

"I hope you don't mind that I record in my journal." Ori says, a somewhat mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"A fonder memory the further away we get from it," Bilbo says, a small chuckle escaping from his lips. Any more talk is cut off by a howl. Bilbo scrambles back, his hand shaking as he stumbles to find his sword. "Was that a wolf?" Bilbo asks in the silence that follows. Gandalf and Radagast reappear from the trees; Gandalf tucking a wrapped, slender package into his cloak as they approach. He draws his new sword, the solemn look in her eyes back. "Are there wolves out here?" Bilbo repeats.

"Wolves?" Bofur says, looking around the trees warily, tightly gripping his mattock. "No, that is not a wolf." A deep growl comes mere feet away, freezing Bilbo's blood. A giant black furred Warg leaps from the trees, snarling. Thorin doesn't hesitate, cutting the creature down in two strokes with his new blade. Another snarl echoes throughout the clearing and another Warg leaps, its jaw reaching for Nori. Kili lets an arrow fly piercing the Warg's side. The beast lets out a yelp as it tumbles onto its side; Dwalin finishing it off with a blow to its neck.

"Warg scouts!" Thorin spits, wiping blood from his sword. "That means an Orc pack is not far behind."

"Who did you tell of this quest beyond your kin?" Gandalf demands.

"No one." Thorin says.

"Who did you tell?" Gandalf's voice booms, thick with anger.

"No one, I swear!" And for a second, his eyes flash darkly. "What in Durin's name is going on?"

"You're being hunted." Gandalf says gravely.

"We have to get out of here!" Dwalin shouts. Ori appears at the top of the ridge, his eyes panicked.

"We can't," He says. "We have no ponies. They bolted!" Bilbo's throat locks at his words, his arms turning to lead until Radagast speaks up.

"I'll draw them off," The Brown wizard says. Gandalf looks at him skeptically, shaking his head.

"These are Gundabad Wargs," He says gravely. "They will outrun you." The confidence doesn't leave Radagast's face.

"These are Rhosgobel rabbits." He replies with a smile. "I'd like to see them try."

* * *

They stand silently in the shadows of the trees, waiting for the cue to start running. Ahead of them lies a stretch of empty gold plain sprinkled with sets of large, gray boulders here and there. Bilbo's mouths dry, his throat locking as he tries to swallow; he swears the others can hear his heart beating out of control. He holds his breath, watching as Radagast crashes from the tree line; riding the sleigh as a number of Wargs tear after him; some carrying Orcs.

"Come on!" Gandalf says urgently as they move out of view. He sprints from the coverage of the trees, all of them following closely behind him. He's never felt as exposed as he does out in the plains as they run weighed down with our armor, weapons and supplies heavy on their bodies. Each of them is panting when they reach the first cluster of boulders, catching their breath when Radagast rushes by still leading the hunting party. They barely get time to catch their breath before Gandalf motions for them to move on again. Bilbo sighs, running after the company. His sides scream with burning pain as he runs, gasping for breath. Radagast and the hunting party neared them again, forcing them to duck behind another pile of boulders.

"Ori, no, get back!" Thorin growls as Ori almost falls into view of the Orcs. He yanks him back into cover, glaring at the young dwarf. The company watches silently as Radagast and the Orcs run further down the plain and Thorin looks to Gandalf, suspiciously.

"Where are you leading us?" He hisses. Gandalf ignores the question, ordering them to stick together and once more, they're moving from our hiding spot; making for a mark halfway down the plains. Radagast and the hunting party are still in view as they run, nearing them once more. One of the riders slows down, sniffing and looking around.

"I think one of them sees us." Bilbo hisses in a whisper to Thorin. His eyes harden as he swallows, nodding sharply.

"Keep moving, don't slow down!" He orders and they sprint towards the next boulder. There was no more jogging. There was no running. No, this was full out sprinting; racing for their lives as the sound of the footsteps grows louder. They throw ourselves back against the boulder; pressing out backs into the rocks. The company stands silent, holding their breath as the sound of nails scraping stones comes from above us. Bilbo stops breathing, the unmistakable sound of a Warg's growling mere feet away. Thorin looks to Kili, nodding slowly. Silently, Kili pulls an arrow out of his quiver, fitting it to the bow string. There's a moment of silence before he backs away from the covering of the rock, taking aim and shooting the Warg. The beast snarls angrily as it falls to the ground. Bifur and Dwalin rush forward, bashing the Warg over the head. The Orc shrieks angrily, grabbing his blade from the ground and charges at us. Dwalin and Bifur turn, stabbing and beating the Orc savagely. The creature howls, shrieks and screams in anger, the sound piercing my eardrums.

"Move! Run!" Gandalf cries urgently as the howls grow closer. Bilbo swallow hard, running after them. The brief moment of rest had done little for him and he struggles to keep up with the others.

"There they are!" Glóin yells. I stop, his eyes widening as he catch sight of the hunting party moving quickly across the plains.

"Quickly! This way!" Gandalf commands; pointing to a large crop of rocks, reaching high into the air. His legs burning, his chest heaving, he stumbles after the company. They make it to the rock before the fighting starts. He catches sight of Óin and Nori taking down an Orc and Warg; Dwalin handling another completely on his own.

"There's more coming!" Kili shouts as readies another arrow. The Orcs move in quickly, closing in with menacing growls and stares.

"Kili, shoot them!" Thorin cries. Kili obeys, launching arrows.

"We're surrounded!" Fili yells, looking desperately back and forth. "Where's Gandalf?" He asks. Bilbo looks around and realizes with a twinge in his heart, the wizard is gone. Did he get picked off? The thought makes his stomach churn as they all back up slowly; forming a circle.

"He's abandoned us!" Dwalin says gruffly.

"Hold your ground!" Thorin roars, raising his sword to the approaching Orc party. He looks around desperately as the Orcs close in, his heart sinking as they land on Ori The scribe stands away from the others, exposed. He fires a rock at a rider; the rider sneering as the Warg moves closer. Bilbo scrambles from the circle, grabbing the back of Ori's cardigan and shoving him back as the sounds of howls and dark laughter.

"This way, you fools!" Gandalf shouts, standing at the opening of the rocks. Bilbo turns, pushing Ori towards the rock as Thorin yells.

"Move quickly! All of you go!" He yells. He runs after Ori, watching as he dives into the hole in the rock; sliding down a steep incline.

"Down you go Mister Baggins," Dori says from somewhere behind him and Bilbo finds himself sliding down the incline, landing with a small grunt. One of by one the rest of the company joins them, Kili and Thorin the last two to land in the cave.

A clear, piercing sound of a horn cuts through the air followed by the beating of horse hooves. There's the sound of Orcs crying out; Wargs yelping and then an Orc tumbles down into the cave, an arrow protruding from its chest. Everyone stands still for a few moments, waiting to see that the Orc is truly dead. When it doesn't move, Thorin reaches down, yanking the arrow from its chest. He gazes at it briefly before throwing it down, disgusted.

"Elves." He hisses. Dori comes up next to Bilbo, touching my shoulder gently.

"I apologize for shoving you Master Baggins," Dori says. "I did not mean to cause any injuries or hurt—I just wanted to make sure we all got out of there okay." Dori says and Bilbo can see him preparing to fuss. Bilbo smiles and pats the silver haired dwarf on the arm.

"Quite all right Mister Dori," Bilbo promises. "I thank you for saving me."

"Follow it of course!" Bofur says, moving hurriedly down the path. Everyone begins following without argument. It's narrow—high cavern walls on either side of Bilbo; sunlight filtering in through the cracks. The air was becoming cleaner—an almost herbal, flowery scent to it.

"Gandalf," Bilbo calls as he squeezes through a narrow pathway. "Where are we going exactly?" The wizard doesn't answer, simply giving Bilbo a small, secretive smile. It's not until they exit the secretive passageway does Bilbo realize where they are exactly and his breath catches in his throat.

"The Valley of Imladris," Gandalf says softly. "In the common tongue, it is known by another name."

"Rivendell." Bilbo says, breathlessly.


	8. Flower Crowns

Thank you so much to Nikari87; IAmCaptainAwesome; Yufa-Takeero; Dwori forever; My sisters randomness im weird and leobutler for the follows and favorites! They are grealty appreciated! And with this chapter Used to It is completed.

* * *

Bilbo was ready to weep from the sheer joy of being here in Rivendell. Food, real food and a real bed! The dwarves seemed less than impressed by the beauty of Rivendell. They hadn't stopped grumbling from the moment they stepped inside. Even now seated around the dinner table they were all grunting and grumbling. The elves had laid out a feast of fruits, salads and wines all for them. But the dwarves were less than impressed.

"Try it," Dori pleads with Ori. "Just a mouthful." Ori looks as green as the lettuce leaf he's holding as he shakes his head.

"I don't like green food." Ori complains and Dori sighs.

"Don't like green food?" Bilbo chimes in. "Why ever not Ori?"

"I may as well eat grass," Ori wrinkles his nose. "You just keep chewing and chewing but it turns into mush until you swallow it." He whines. Dori chuckles warmly and shakes his head.

"When he was a dwarfling I tried telling him if he didn't eat any of his greens then he couldn't have any desserts. I had to answer the door in the middle of dinner so Ori got down from the table and had an entire cake to himself." Neither Bilbo nor any of the other dwarves try and hide their laughter as Ori flushes and grumbles that greens are disgusting. As Bilbo looks around the table he realizes that Ori isn't the only one who doesn't like green food. Óin stabs a sliver of onion and glares at it. Dwalin lifts handfuls of salad out of the bowl before and looks around like this is some sort of joke.

"Where's the meat?" Dwalin demands and glares around at the elves. Bilbo doesn't pay any mind to the complaining. He relishes in the chance for fresh food and would be lying if he said that he didn't throw a roll at Bofur when he got up on the table to sing.

After dinner Bilbo slips away from the company for a bath. A giant tub filled with steaming water awaits him, jars of oils and soaps lining the edge of the tub. Bilbo sheds his troll snot encrusted clothes and sinks into the water with a sigh. Weeks on the road had left his muscles stiff, his back aching and Bilbo exhausted. He sinks down into the water until his chins resting on the surface of the water and closes his eyes. Bilbo doesn't hear the door open at first, all too happy for the chance at this real bath. He doesn't hear the pitter patter of footsteps. But he does hear the embarrassed, terrified squeak. Bilbo sits up then and looks around to see Ori sinking into the water. His face is flushed face to the roots of his gingery red.

"I—I'm sorry Mister Baggins," Ori mumbles. "I didn't realize you were in here or else I wouldn't have come in here…" Bilbo flushes red and looks away, clearing his throat.

"Not a problem Ori," Bilbo promises. "I can leave if you wish. I'm nearly finished after all." Ori shakes his head and looks away though his blush is dying down.

"Is this something hobbits do?" Ori finally asks.

"No, this is certainly not something hobbits do," Bilbo confesses and shakes his head. "But a lot of things I've done are nothing a respectable hobbit would do."

"Dori likes to be respectable and he wants me to be respectable too," A mischievous gleam comes to his eyes. "He would probably faint if he knew some of the less than respectable things I've done."

"My father would probably feel the same way about me," Bilbo agrees. "My mother would probably just encourage it." Both of them quiet for a moment until Ori lifts his head and looks at Bilbo curiously.

"Can I ask you something?" Ori asks. Bilbo nods and Ori balks slightly, clearing his throat and lifting his head. "If dwarves are made of stone then what are hobbits made of?"

"Hobbits have a love for everything that grow," Bilbo muses. "So perhaps we're made of the earth."

"Is that why you had such a big garden?" Ori asks and his tones suddenly curious now. "What kind of flowers did you have?" Bilbo shares tales of his home with him, Ori listening eagerly. They talk about the different flowers Bilbo had and their meanings. They stay in until Gandalf's voice comes through the door.

"Excuse me Master Ori," Gandalf's tone has a hint of humor in it. "If you don't get soon I believe your brothers will tear Rivendell apart looking for you." Ori sighs and gives Bilbo an apologetic look as he moves to stand from the bath.

"I'm coming Mister Gandalf," Ori promises. "Would you meet me in the gardens tomorrow Bilbo? I'd like to see some of their flowers." Bilbo only manages a nod; his cheeks flushed red as Ori leaves the room. He had most certainly not been ogling the scribe's backside. Bilbo lingers in the bathtub until his flushed cheeks have died down.

True to his word Bilbo meets with Ori in the gardens the next day. The scribe sits on a bench with his journal balanced in his lap. He sketches furiously with his tongue sticking out of his mouth slightly. Bilbo chuckles at the look of concentration on his face as he sits down next to him.

"Trying to commit everything to memory?" Bilbo asks and Ori blushes as he sets his journal aside.

"You could say that," Ori chuckles. "It seems like the more I draw the more I notice little things I missed." Ori huffs.

"It certainly is a beautiful place," Bilbo sighs. "Can I ask why you didn't join the others in bathing in the fountains last night? Not that I minded your company—I just thought you would join the others."

"I have my brothers with me on this journey just like the others. And Mister Bifur has his cousins while Fili and Kili have their uncle. You don't have anyone. And I had a talk with Mister Gandalf."

"What did Gandalf say?" Bilbo asks.

"He told me that hobbits are creatures of comfort and we talked a long time about you….I owe you an apology," Bilbo's throat tightens and he tries desperately to stave off the tears. "I'm sorry for what I said and the way we treated you." Ori says and grabs something from beside the bench. He holds a poorly woven flower crown of purple hyacinths.

"I accept your apology," Bilbo accepts the crown and gives Ori's hand a light squeeze. "Thank you Ori."

"I wanted to tell you too," Ori continues and doesn't pull his hand away. "We dwarves don't think like hobbits do. If you love someone of the same sex then that's who you love."

"I like that," Bilbo confesses and sniffles. "Oh bugger it all," He sighs as a tear slips down his cheek. Ori smiles and squeezes his hand.

"It's okay," Ori soothes and presses a quick, hesitant kiss to his cheek. He pulls away with flaming red cheeks. "Would you—I mean could you perhaps show me how to make a proper flower crown? Because this certainly won't do." He gestures towards the hyacinths. Bilbo laughs and gives Ori's hand a squeeze as he stands.

"Let's go find some flowers shall we?" Bilbo suggests and they walk deeper into the gardens, hand in hand a crown of purple hyacinths on Bilbo's head. The two sit in the garden cross legged with their knees touching. Bilbo patiently showing Ori how to weave a flower crown until finally Ori's wearing a crown of blue violets. And if the two share a few chaste kisses between flower picking well none of the company has to know.


End file.
